by Rona Halsall
She ran a hand through her hair, unsticking it from her forehead, shivering as water trickled down her neck.
He stopped what he was doing and sighed before walking towards her, arms held out, inviting a hug. ‘Let’s just rewind, shall we? Start again?’ His eyes pleaded with her, his expression apologetic. ‘Look, I’m sorry I went off with the key. I hadn’t thought about that. We’ve both been a bit childish, haven’t we? Not the best start.’
She fell into his embrace, wanting all the aggravation to end and for them to go back to how they’d been before they’d got married.
He seemed to read her thoughts. His cheek rested on the top of her head, his arms holding her tight. ‘Let’s pretend we’ve just got here. How about it?’
She nodded, her throat too clogged with emotion to speak. Her teeth chattered.
He pulled away from her, his hands on her shoulders as he bent to look at her face. ‘Christ, you’re freezing, aren’t you? Let me run you a bath. Get you warmed up. And while you’re relaxing, I’ll make us something to eat. How about that?’
He didn’t wait for an answer but bent and picked her up, slowly carrying her up the stairs and into the bedroom, where he set her down on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom. She sat shivering while she listened to him turn on the tap, wondering how he hadn’t noticed her on the rock next to the track. Had he deliberately sneaked past? Or taken a different route through the trees? Had he even been into town or just grabbed some things from the village shop? Then she remembered the sound of the car and knew he must have got a cab. Or was it someone he knew, dropping him off?
She sighed. So many questions and no proper answers.
You’re being stupid, she told herself. Suspicious and stupid.
He came out of the bathroom, his look of concentration turning to a smile when he caught her eye. He loves me. It was there in his face. There’s nothing going on, except me being a dick, creating problems where there aren’t any.
She smiled up at him. ‘I’m sorry about lunch. I’m sorry about everything. I know I’m being’ She searched for the right word, but he shook his head.
‘You’re not being anything.’ He sat beside her and pulled her close. She snuggled into the warmth of him, could feel the thump of his heart in his chest, could smell sweat and aftershave. ‘We’ve had quite a time of it these last few weeks, haven’t we? Getting everything organised, it was a lot to think about. So, we’re both tired and a bit strung out. Let’s just leave it at that.’
She tipped her head and kissed him, loving him for not blaming her for anything, for understanding. Loving him for being the first person in her life who didn’t try to make her feel guilty.
‘You know what?’ he said as he pulled away. ‘I think I might go and start making that food before I decide that I need a bath too.’
She smiled at him. ‘Oh, but I think you do, Mr Marsden. I think you definitely need a bath. You’re smelling a little sweaty, if I may be so bold.’ Then she kissed him again and he pulled her to him and all the worries of the day were forgotten. It was time, she decided, to do what he’d asked: put all the niggles behind them and start their honeymoon again.
* * *
That worked for a while, but later, as she lay in bed, the unanswered questions came back to annoy her, demanding her attention, and she knew she wouldn’t relax until she’d sorted out some proper answers.
Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure we have that conversation. Get everything out in the open. Find out what he’s done with my phone, who that woman was and where he went this afternoon.
Fifteen
That night, Chloe woke to the sound of shouting. Her heart was pounding, mind still blurry from sleep as her eyes searched the dark of the bedroom for the cause of the commotion.
‘Get away from me!’
Dan’s voice. He sounded panicked. Oh God! An intruder.
She could sense movement, heard feet scuffling on the tiled floor, before his voice startled her again. It was guttural and fierce now. ‘Go on, just fuck off!’
Where is he?
A loud smack rang through the air and she sat up, gathered the covers around her more tightly, eyes straining to see. Is that a shadow in the corner, over by the window? She hardly dared to breathe as she wondered what to do. Get out, she told herself. Just get yourself out of here. Isn’t that what Dan would want, for her to be safe? He was more than capable of looking after himself, given the size of him. She considered this for a moment. But what if there’s someone else downstairs. An accomplice? Adrenaline surged round her body as she squinted in the dark, trying to see what was going on.
‘Leave me alone! I haven’t done anything!’ Dan’s words sounded more like a threat than a request. A flicker of silvery moonlight shone through the shutters, lighting up his profile for a moment before disappearing again. Her heart was racing so fast her breath was coming out in shallow gasps. Then she realised what she’d seen: Dan, staring at the wall. Nobody else.
With a sigh of relief, she understood. He’s sleepwalking. Having a nightmare. What should I do? She frowned, trying to think, but she had no experience with this, nothing she could draw on to help, and there was no way she was going near him while he was in this mood. Shivers ran through her body and she realised that, for the first time, she was scared of him. His size had always been a comfort to her, but now he was behaving like the Incredible Hulk, she was helpless to stop him.
Escape. Get downstairs. Wait until it’s over.
She was about to sneak out of bed and run for the door when renewed shouting startled her. He sounded much closer now. ‘I didn’t. I told you, I didn’t do anything!’
Another flare of moonlight illuminated his face, which was turned towards her now, his features twisted into an expression of hatred that made her blood run cold. Suddenly, he dashed towards her, arms flailing, grunting and cursing under his breath as though he was struggling to push someone off him. Her escape route was blocked and she was rooted to the spot, unable to move while she watched the scene unfold. His shadowy bulk crashed into the bed, but he didn’t seem to feel it, just kept coming towards her, his fists punching at the air, the bed, the pillows.
He’s going to hit me.
She screamed and threw herself onto the floor, feeling the movement of air as his fist flew past her, landing where she’d been lying not a moment before.
‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,’ she whimpered as she scuttled across the floor on her hands and knees and into the en-suite, where she banged the door shut and turned the lock. It took a moment for her to catch her breath before she could stagger to her feet and reach the light switch, relieved to banish the darkness. Things felt safer in the light.
She leant against the door, pulling big gulps of air into her lungs while her heart galloped and her mind tried to grasp what had just happened.
Christ, if I hadn’t moved, I would have had his fist in my face.
A bloodcurdling cry came from the bedroom, visceral and unlike anything she’d heard before. A sound full of anguish and pain that seemed to go on and on, the air vibrating with the misery of it.
She moved away from the door and whatever was going on in the bedroom, flipped the toilet seat down and perched on it while she listened. Mercifully, the noise stopped. She heard a thump. Then nothing. She waited as the silence settled, arms hugging her chest, not sure what to do for the best. Eventually, after it had been quiet for a while, she unlocked the door and opened it a chink. A narrow beam of light illuminated her sleeping husband. He was sprawled across the bed like a starfish, leaving no room for Chloe. Which was fine, she decided, as she crept out of the bedroom and into the room next door, making sure she turned the lock.
Sleep eluded her as she tossed and turned, listening for footsteps, or shouts, unable to forget what she’d just experienced. That was one humdinger of a nightmare he’d been having, and it made her wonder what had got him so stirred up. Or who. Because he’d c
learly been speaking to someone. Finally, she fell asleep with that thought in her mind.
* * *
She woke to the sound of tapping on the door.
‘Chloe? Chloe?’
The handle rattled, and she blinked awake, wondering where she was for a moment, before she remembered. He was sleepwalking. She lay on her back, waiting for her brain to come awake, all the questions from the night before flooding into her mind. What’s he so worried about?
‘Chloe, what are you doing in there? Open the door.’
Oh God, he won’t know he had a nightmare, will he? What did he think when I wasn’t there when he woke up? Is he going to be mad at me for locking myself in here?
She cringed and swung her legs out of bed, unsure which side of her husband she was going to see when she opened the door.
She gave him a welcoming smile, not wanting another day to start badly. No, today she needed answers, and the only way to get them was if he was relaxed. She caught the hurt in his eyes and put a hand round his neck, drawing him close, a lingering kiss the only way to break the awkwardness between them.
He pulled away and gazed at her. ‘What’s going on? I just don’t understand.’
She sighed and took his hand, led him into the bedroom, pulling him down to sit next to her on the bed. ‘You had a nightmare last night. Did you know that?’
He frowned. ‘Did I?’
‘You were sleepwalking. Shouting. Telling someone to get off you.’
He looked away.
‘It was pretty scary,’ she continued. ‘I went to hide in the bathroom. Then, when you fell asleep, I came in here.’ She watched him, willing him to say something. ‘I was really scared, Dan.’
Finally, he met her gaze, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I thought I’d grown out of that stuff. I used to do it when I was a kid. I was Look, I know this sounds daft, but I was bullied at school for a while.’
Chloe’s eyes widened. She couldn’t imagine that this hulk of a man ever got bullied.
He saw the incredulity in her gaze and shrugged. ‘I was small when I was little. Only started growing when I was fifteen.’
She was silent for a moment. There was something in the tone of his voice that made her doubt the truth of his words, but she couldn’t say exactly what it was. You’re being paranoid, she told herself. Why can’t he have been bullied as a child? Lots of kids were and it did tend to have a lasting psychological effect. She reached for his hand. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
He sighed and was silent for a moment. ‘Not much to tell, really. No reason for the bullying except I was the weedy kid in glasses.’
‘Glasses?’
‘Yeah, I was short-sighted. But I had laser treatment a few years ago, so it wasn’t a problem when I was playing rugby. The club paid for it.’
‘Right.’ Of course, he’d told her he used to play rugby. But if the club had paid for it, then that suggested it was a bit more serious than a game with the lads on a Sunday morning. So many things I don’t know about him. ‘So, what level were you playing at?’
He put her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one. ‘Do we have to talk about rugby, Mrs Marsden? You see, I’m on my honeymoon and I’ve got much more interesting things to be doing.’
She shivered as he leant over and kissed her neck, his hands travelling down her back. And that was it. Conversation over. Once again, he’d deflected her questions, leaving her feeling that the longer she spent with this man, the less she knew about him.
Sixteen
Over the next few days, Chloe’s doubts about Dan had faded to a niggle at the back of her mind. She was emotional, she told herself, a bit overtired after the blur of the last two weeks, and once she relaxed, everything had a logical explanation. Even her phone going missing. After all, they’d slept for a little bit of the journey on the plane, easy for someone to steal it from her bag if they’d wanted to. She was, by her own admission, an over-thinker. And that was clearly the problem here. It was all in her mind, making connections where there weren’t any, and she had to let it go, trust the intuition that had led her to agree to marry Dan in the first place. If she could only put all her stupid worries behind her, then maybe she could start enjoying herself. Besides, Dan was being the perfect husband. He was attentive and considerate and did all the cooking and had organised some days out. She didn’t have to do a thing.
As time moved on and she couldn’t find the right moment to ask him all those questions that had seemed so important, she found that she didn’t need the answers anymore. That would just sour the atmosphere, and she’d be mortified if the problem lay with her overactive imagination rather than anything real.
Once she’d put her concerns out of her mind, her hopes for the honeymoon started to become a reality. They went kayaking in the bay and landed on a deserted beach, where they had a picnic. They snorkelled in the crystal-clear waters, hiked through the nature reserve and explored the area. He was easy company again, now that she wasn’t behaving like a spoilt teenager, and his love for her was so apparent, he might as well have had it tattooed on his forehead.
* * *
On the next-to-last day of their honeymoon, they took the water taxi to Colom Island, which sat just off the mouth of the bay. It was midweek and only Dan and Chloe were on the small inflatable motorboat that could probably hold a dozen people at most. After the downpour on their first day, they had been blessed with beautiful weather, and today was no different: the sea shimmered in the sunlight and the island ahead of them seemed to float above the water on the heat haze.
‘Isn’t it gorgeous?’ Dan said, his arms around her shoulders as he held her to him.
‘Hmm, it really is. I almost never want to leave.’ She turned to him and laughed. ‘And it’s just as good as the Maldives.’
Dan had been right. The place was beautiful and quiet, the villa was better than a hotel would have been – more private and cosy – and over the past few days the bond between them had grown stronger than ever. Yes, he was always alert to potential danger, pernickety about security and keeping everything locked, but she could live with that. Being protective was hardly a fault when all was said and done. And being without her phone was actually quite liberating. She’d borrowed Dan’s to ring her gran a couple of times and as the carer had Dan’s number, she knew she’d be in touch if there was a problem. She glanced at him, the grin on his face telling her that he was delighted by her response.
He kissed the top of her head. ‘I love the Spanish way of life, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘It is pretty relaxed, I’ll say that for it. And the idea of a siesta in the middle of the day, then being out and about later in the evening when it cools down, is a nice way to live.’
‘The language is lovely as well, isn’t it? And I do believe you’re starting to pick it up, after just a few days. Imagine if we could actually live here for a while, you’d be fluent!’
She laughed. ‘In your dreams. I can manage “hello” and “thank you”, but that’s about it. I’m not great at languages. Not like you.’
‘So much cheaper living here than in Brighton. We’ve hardly spent anything on food.’
‘Hmm. It’s not just food in Brighton, is it? I mean, transport alone eats up so much money, then rents are going through the roof. You get used to living in something like a rabbit hutch, thinking it’s fine, then you come here and have a whole house to yourself and…’ She shrugged, not quite ready to think about going home yet, to her job, looking after her gran and all those other chores that went with day-to-day life.
‘It’s a healthier way to live, no doubt about that.’ He smoothed her hair away from her face, an earnest look in his eyes. ‘Stress is such a killer, isn’t it? Not to mention air pollution.’
She nodded, eyes scanning the horizon, aware that she hadn’t felt this relaxed for a very long time. Not since her holiday before her mum died, all those years ago. Nine years of str
ess and guilt about what she’d done – what effect had that had on her body? And all those car fumes she was breathing every day during her commute to work. Dan had a point, she supposed. But she did love the hustle and bustle of living in a city.
She squinted at him, the sun in her eyes. ‘You don’t think it might get a bit boring here after a while?’
‘What? You can’t mean that.’
‘Well The village is lovely, and all this wonderful countryside to explore is great, but Menorca is only a very small island – even the capital city isn’t much more than a town.’
He huffed. ‘Cities aren’t everything, though, are they? We both love being active and doing stuff outdoors. Why would we choose to live in a city when the countryside would offer more of what we like doing? And it would be so much healthier, less stressful. Cheaper.’ His eyes searched her face. ‘Imagine how much better off we’d be living somewhere like this.’
She realised, with a jolt, that he was being serious. This was something he wanted her to consider, and she was paralysed by the thought. Leaving the UK? Christ! It had never occurred to her that would be on the agenda. Dan’s mum was better, so that freed him up, but she had her gran to consider. Surely they’d live in her apartment? Especially since Dan wasn’t working at the moment. It was where they’d spent all their time together since they’d met, and she felt it wasn’t an unreasonable assumption. But it was clear that he had other ideas. A weight settled in her stomach and she started to feel a bit queasy as the boat bounced over the waves.
